


Routine

by wordsrising



Series: the Shifting Bones [2]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Interspecies Friendship, Physical Disability, Sign Language, Slice of Life, injury mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28947387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsrising/pseuds/wordsrising
Summary: Even the unpredictable life of a healer follows a basic rhythm of its own.
Series: the Shifting Bones [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034121
Kudos: 1





	Routine

Des woke, as he always did, to the sound of Xzaki and Shatza bickering. It wouldn’t be morning without those two arguing, really, and Des felt he’d miss it if they ever decided to get along peacefully.

Des lifted his head with a yawn almost drowned by the creaking of his jaw, and slowly straightened properly. The infirmary was, as usual, a flurry of feathered limbs and wing-stirred dust motes in the sunbeams pouring through the propped-open entrance.

Nehzhe, from her habitual roosting spot on Des’s back, roused all her feathers with a huff and hopped down to the table to shake herself awake.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Xzaki snapped, batting at Shatza with one wing, “you woke them up!”

“It was a joint effort,” Shatza replied calmly. “Apologies, matron.”

“Apologies don’t lull me back to sleep,” Nehzhe pointed out, because she was always quite grumpy in the mornings. “Where is my son?”

Des reached out and tapped the table next to the note he’d left to remind them all that Ixche would be spending the morning practicing his draconic with Victory at the other end of camp. Nehzhe harrumphed at him.

“And where is the healer’s breakfast?” she asked.

“Right here, matron,” Shatza assured her, snagging the handle of a basket nearly as large as her and waiting pointedly for Xzaki to take the other handle so they could both lift it to the table while Nehzhe tossed Des’s pillow aside.

Des signed his thanks as Xzaki lifted off the lid. His flock were far better suited to hunting the small rodents and things Des could still eat than he would have been even without his mobility issues, and there was more than enough to satisfy his stomach there. He fell happily to eating while Xzaki and Shatza moved away from the table to resume their argument.

Nehzhe settled next to the basket, snagging a bush rat out of it. Some of the others in the clan would take offense on Des’s behalf, but he understood that that was simply the way a flock worked: Nehzhe was matron and was entitled to whatever she wished, and the rest of the flock trusted her to never leave them wanting.

Des managed his meal in relative peace, and Shatza abandoned her ongoing bickering with Xzaki to retrieve the empty basket and return it to the clan cookfires for washing and reuse. She would also check in with the scouts and hunters, to see if the clan would be moving today. Nehzhe left to check up on Ixche and Xzaki went with her, leaving Des alone for the moment.

He debated making the slow trip outside, to enjoy the sun on what was left of his hide, or to make the much shorter trip to his desk to study for a while. Before he could make up his mind one way or the other, however, the sound of quick heavy footsteps approached, and a shadow blocked out the sunlight as Ambrose shoved his way inside, an unfamiliar Mirror draped across his back.

“Arietis attacked him,” Ambrose reported tersely, carefully tipping his burden onto the nearest cot. “I sent Honi to get your apprentice.”

Des nodded, hurrying over at his fastest walk, signing  _ blankets _ and  _ bandages _ and  _ water _ .

Hue jumped from her perch atop Ambrose’s head and dove at the neat stacks of folded bandages. Camus, being half again Hue’s size, chose to go for the blankets, leaving Ambrose to drag over the water.

Ceiro arrived as Des was assessing the damage, followed closely by Ixche, and Des was able to fall into quicker, more complex signs that would be lost on Ambrose and his current ride-alongs. Between the three of them and their various helpers, they had the stranger cleaned up, stitched together, and tucked in in short order.

Ambrose and Hue left at some point in the bustle, and the rest of the flock had returned. Cheyh helped Des wash the blood from his stony claws, then dunked Camus in the washbin entirely to get him clean, too, before moving on to help Schehn and Nehzhe preen Ixche’s feathers clean. Shatza helped Ceiro wash their claws and bullied them onto an empty cot, then settled beside them to watch over the patient.

Xzaki herded Des back across the tent to his table, retrieving his pillow and plumping it up for him. Once he was lying down, she went to help Shatza keep watch, politely holding their bickering to a much lower volume than usual.

Camus flitted over to the table, patting the thin section of hide visible on Des’s cheek between his mask and the stone. “We’re probably not moving for a while,” he guessed. “Rest up, healer; I’ll make sure this one doesn’t tear any stitches.”

Des managed a slight nod, watching Camus flit back toward the cots. He had slight reservations about the abilities of Veilspun in the abstract, but so long as Camus confined his hypnosis solely to preventing patients from doing themselves harm, he supposed it was alright. A pity Camus was so set on conquering the coliseum with his mate; he’d make an excellent healer himself, if only he wanted to be one.

Satisfied that the chaos of the infirmary tent was no worse than usual, Des closed his eyes, letting himself drift back to sleep, dimly aware of Nehzhe gliding over to reclaim her perch between his wings. The flock would wake him if he was needed, and unscheduled naps were very much a part of Des’s daily routine, anyway.


End file.
